


Gregor and the Prophecy of Calling

by half_sour_saffitz



Category: The Underland Chronicles - Suzanne Collins
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-03-23
Updated: 2020-05-20
Packaged: 2021-02-28 18:28:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 17,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23271739
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/half_sour_saffitz/pseuds/half_sour_saffitz
Summary: Many years after the end of the War with the Gnawers, when Nerissa offers a prophecy, Gregor wants nothing to do with it. The Underland has caused too much pain and all those Gregor had considered his friends no longer want anything to do with him. But the new quest offers a tantalizing possibility: the chance to take back his biggest regrets and regain his biggest loss. Gregor knows failure is likely, and with it will come more pain -- yet the slimmest opportunity to succeed might be worth it.
Relationships: Gregor Campbell/Luxa, luxa/OC
Comments: 13
Kudos: 13





	1. Gregor, Age 17

Gregor looked at himself in the mirror. He touched the swollen bruise beneath his right eye. It was tender. _I’ve had worse_. If the split skin made a scar it would only add to his collection.

“Hey, princess!” Gregor recognized Steve’s voice as the burly boxer burst through the door. “Did I knock your eardrums out?”

The other boxers at the 34th street boxing club all called Gregor “princess” because he refused to take off his sweats, even when it was 90+ degrees in the un-air conditioned gym. They assumed he was embarrassed to fight half-naked like the other men did. Gregor didn’t mind being teased; he just wished they had chosen any other nickname. “Princess” already belonged to another member of his family.

He shook his head quickly so that he wouldn’t break his own rule. It was like when there was a spider in the apartment -- sometimes it was easier to ignore its existence. If you didn’t look at it, you could convince yourself that it wasn’t there, hanging from your ceiling. 

“You wish,” Gregor retorted. “But you barely even touched me.”

Steven laughed loudly and flicked the bruise under Gregor’s eye. Gregor winced. In truth, Gregor was glad that Steven had gotten such a good hit in. Gregor’s unusually good skill – at boxing, a sport he had just recently picked up – would be noticed if he didn’t get hit occasionally. And then the questions would be awkward. What could he say? That at a very young age he had encountered a dangerous world miles below New York City that had awoken a primal ability to kill? No. Gregor had to keep some secrets. One secret really, but it manifested itself all over the place. He couldn’t go shirtless like most of the boxers without revealing the horrendous scars across his chest. He couldn’t fight to his full ability without killing someone. He couldn’t swap ex-girlfriend stories with the guys, because his ex-girlfriend was queen of… of that place he wouldn’t think about!

“Do you want something, Rudolph?” Gregor asked. Steve was called such because his nose had been broken so many times that it now resembled, well… It was nicer than Tomato-Nose.

“There’s a gentleman here to see you. Do you think he’ll ask you to the big dance, Princess?”

The guys also made fun of him for his age, but Gregor thought his skill more than made up for his seventeen years. Gregor couldn’t be bothered to respond with an insult of his own. His mind was spinning as he made his way from the locker room through the maze of the basement up to the main gym. Gregor has exactly one friend – and Angelica wasn’t likely to be confused with a guy. Gregor’s other friends weren’t exactly able to “drop by” -- not without a tracking bracelet.

Gregor’s confusion only doubled when he emerged from the locker room. He scanned the gym, but it was only the regular. Gregor wandered over to the front and peered through the glass door. Nobody out on the sidewalk. Feeling like he had just fallen for a very weird prank, Gregor made his way back to his locker. As he did, he passed the front desk where the ancient, one-armed boxing legend/gym manager greeted him.

“Young man in here looking for you earlier,” Marv said without looking up from his spreadsheets. 

“Rudy told me. Where’d he go?”

“Don’t know. But he was in a hurry. Odd-looking fellow, said he had to run but that’d he’d be at the spot – said you’d know what that meant – tomorrow at noon. I said you had a match, but he seemed sure you’d be there.”

Gregor was puzzled. There were no secret spots that were favorites of his non-existent friends. 

“You said he was funny looking?” Gregor asked. The spider was threatening to crawl into view. 

“Funny looking, funny acting, funny name. What sort of name is Ripred?”

It was eleven thirty and Gregor still hadn’t rescheduled his match. The guys that missed their matches were put on cleaning detail, which wasn’t much fun when you were on your hands and knees trying to scrub away several decades of sweat stains. If he hopped on a train right then, he just might be able to make it to the club, at least in time to avoid changing urinal cakes. But Gregor stood where he was, which was a shady corner of Central Park. A backpack hung over one shoulder, completely empty except for a crowbar. He stood over a solitary rock laid into the ground. Most people probably wouldn’t give it a second look. But if they did, they would notice that it was a bit odd. It was the only rock in the area, and it was almost perfectly rectangular, as if it had been placed there on purpose, as if it were a door.

Gregor stared at the rock, thinking hard. Ripred? There was no way _Ripred_ had walked into the boxing club last night. Ripred was a six foot tall, talking rat. Had he been taking a leisurely stroll down 33rd street, Gregor was sure to have heard about it on the news. No. What had Marv said? Just an “odd-looking fellow.” That could be any Underlander human. They certainly would be odd-looking in the middle of New York City with their translucent skin and violet eyes. But still, New York City was probably the best place to get away with that. That’s what he had told… someone who didn’t matter anymore.

Gregor very nearly turned away when Luxa crossed his mind. She didn’t matter to him anymore. And as the queen of the Underland, their problems didn’t really matter to him anymore. Had it been anyone other than Ripred trying to communicate with him, he would never have showed. But Ripred was somewhat of a different story. Never mind that he had become a sort of uncle to Gregor’s younger sister, he was the closest thing Gregor had to a mentor. He had been the person – well, sentient being – that Gregor had sought out after the incident. And what had the rat’s wise words been? “I told you so.”

Gregor yanked the crowbar out of his backpack and dropped to the ground. He lifted the stone out smoothly, impressing himself with his increased strength. He was also angry, which was igniting his rager side. This always improved his physical skills. He had some words of his own for the rat. Or maybe something else. He usually fought the rat with a sword, but having broken the last one given to him, his fists would have to do. Boxing had given him some new moves that Ripred wouldn’t be ready for. At the last minute, Gregor flicked open the switchblade that had been given to him and put it between his teeth before descending into the darkness.

He slid the stone back into place and was truly in the dark. He let out a deep breath and the world lit up. Echolocation was one thing he had not given up since abandoning the Underworld. It had helped him remain sane when the lights went off at juvie, leaving him in the dark with his thoughts.

“You are early, Overlander.”

Gregor jumped and whirled around. Behind him in the dark stood, not Ripred, but Howard. It had been several years and Gregor had no light, but he was sure it was his old friend, Luxa’s cousin, Howard. Howard, who had saved his life more than once, who had cared for his sisters, who had supported his decisions. Before Gregor remembered his promises, his face split into a smile. Then the memories flooded in and Gregor’s face hardened again.

“I’m here to see Ripred.”

“Ripred said that the two of you spoke after you left us. I am sorry to have deceived you, but he is the only one you would have agreed to meet.”

Gregor knew the truth in this. And that was why he was going to leave. Gregor grabbed the bottom rung and began to hoist himself up.

“Wait! Gregor, please. There has been another prophecy!”

Gregor dropped back to the tunnel floor. He was enraged. Not only had Howard, who had vowed to respect his wishes, tricked him, now he was talking about prophecies – the very thing that had ruined Gregor. In seconds Gregor had him pinned against the wall, holding Howard up by his shirt collar. Though Howard was older than Gregor by four years, Gregor’s fanatical workouts had finally given him an edge.

“You know how I feel about that manipulator,” he spit into Howard’s face.

“Yes!” Howard cried in pain. “I know this. I would never bother you about Sandwich. I promised you that!”

Gregor let him drop. He clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth and saw Howard rubbing his throat.

“Then what are you doing here?” Gregor demanded, trying to force the rager side down.

“Sandwich did not author this prophecy! Nerissa did."


	2. The Prophecy

“Nerissa is not a prophet,” Gregor said for the thousandth time as Nike the bat flew Howard and him back to the city Gregor had thought he had left forever.

Even Howard’s infinite patience was running out. “Okay, let us say that Nerissa is not a prophet.”

“Then what are we even doing? Bring me back!”

Howard sighed. “Think you, Overlander!” Howard only called Gregor “Overlander” when he was really frustrated. “What would it mean if Nerissa were to write a prophecy that includes you?”

Gregor was frustrated too. He couldn’t think. He had spent so much time trying not to wonder about the Underland that now it was unnatural to consider things the way they did.

“It means that she has had another one of her visions and she is asking for your help!”

Gregor tried to think about what Howard said without his emotions. He had always liked Nerissa, even if she occasionally gave him the creeps. She had spared his life when he was on trial for treason. And though Gregor had forsaken Sandwich as a prophet, he couldn’t quite write Nerissa off in the same fashion.

“She could have just asked for my help,” Gregor said bitterly. The Underlanders had never shied away from asking for his help before.

“Could she have?” Howard wondered aloud. Gregor could not answer him and they flew the rest of the way in silence. 

As Gregor began to recognize the landmarks that meant Regalia was drawing close, he couldn’t untie the knots that were developing in his stomach. It had been a year since he had been to the city, the city he once thought might be his home.  _ Stupid. Who falls in love at twelve years old? _ There was no obeying his rule anymore. She was everywhere, in all that he saw. There was the tunnel where they had first said goodbye. Below was the arena where they had met. In front rose the palace that they had defended together. Within was the museum where they had first kissed. 

Other ghosts rose from the city. The river where Cartesian the nibbler had been laid to rest. Twitchtip was leaping by the gate of city where he had first seen her. Off across the Waterway where Pandora the bat had been eaten by mites, and farther along, where Hamnet and Frill had given their lives. Those ghosts that Gregor hadn’t particularly liked in life loomed larger in mind, Solovet and Henry—Solovet dying in a military maneuver, Henry leaping after Gregor, never fearing heights because he had placed his trust in his bond … 

Gregor shut his mind again before he could contemplate the last and greatest of those he had lost in this cold, lightless world. In a way he was glad for the ghost of his best friend down here, who had been hated by the people he sought to protect. It steeled his heart to whatever cryptic words Nerissa had planned for Gregor. Yes, Gregor would keep the big, black bat next to his heart, but he wouldn’t utter his name. 

Nike slowly descended into the High Hall. There was a greeting party assembled, evidently they all expected Howard and Ripred’s manipulation to work. Nerissa, Ripred, and—unsurprisingly—Luxa all waited for him. Aurora, Luxa’s golden bat stood behind her. An Underlander man that Gregor didn’t recognize stood to her left. But by far the most surprising guest was Gregor’s own sister, Lizzie. 

Maybe it wasn’t surprising that she was here in the greeting party, but here in the Underworld at all. As a child she had suffered from crippling panic attacks. Why would a child with this condition seek out a land filled with giant, often murderous, creatures? Lizzie had tried to explain it once: “Everything down here is scary, so what’s the point of being scared?” Gregor didn’t get her logic, nor did he support her continued presence in the Underland. Their parents certainly disagreed when Lizzie decided to be schooled below. But she had defied them all, secure in her friendship with the giant rat, Ripred. 

It was Ripred that broke the awkward silence that transpired after Gregor dismounted. “What happened to your face?” 

Gregor’s eyes dropped to the ground but not before peeking at Luxa. Her face was set in stone, which usually meant there were any number of emotions raging beneath the surface. 

Lizzie explained quietly. “Gregor’s been working out at a boxing gym.” 

“Hmm, I wonder where he got that brilliant idea,” said Ripred sarcastically. Gregor was fuming. It was Ripred’s advice that he find some way to fight so that he wouldn’t seek out violence in everyday life. Gregor had followed his advice too late. 

“Nerissa, perhaps you should share your prophecy?” Howard said, always the peacekeeper, always trying to protect everyone—even from each other. 

“Oh, it’s not my prophecy.” 

Gregor had almost forgotten the dreamlike quality with which Nerissa spoke. 

“What do you mean it’s not  _ your  _ prophecy?” Gregor growled, turning on Howard. “You said—”

Howard’s eyes were wide with alarm and he took a step back. In the back corner of his mind Gregor wondered what he must look like to make Howard afraid. He pushed the thought away and let the rage take over. He couldn’t believe they were manipulating him again. It was all the Underlanders knew how to do. They would take a person and they would push him until he was broken. Until he was useful, until he—

Gregor felt something cold on his throat and stopped dead. He hadn’t even realized that he had been moving, that he had been attacking Howard. His rager side stopped only when his own life was threatened. 

“Stop!” bellowed Luxa, who held the hilt of the sword. Gregor had stopped. His hands were still clenched into fists. Howard was breathing hard as he stood bent in half, his hand on his throat. Gregor took a deep breath. Had he really been about to strangle Howard? He had no memory. 

“It would seem that the rager side didn’t get better with age,” remarked Ripred. He was slouched on his hind legs, but Gregor noticed that his tail was poised, ready to spring. So he was even scaring Ripred. Gregor tried not to enjoy the dark irony. He almost grinned until he saw Lizzie, his own sister, protected behind Ripred, trying not to cry. Gregor glared at the ground. He was the one who scared everyone, he didn’t have any right to cry over it. 

“I won’t be a part of any more of Sandwich’s prophecies,” Gregor muttered to the ground. 

Someone put a shaky hand on his shoulder. It could only be Nerissa. “I did not mean to upset you, Gregor. I only meant that I do not consider the prophecy mine because I did not create it. I said the words and yet I have no memory of it. Howard was the one to hear it and remember it. We are lucky that he noticed it’s significance.”

Gregor didn’t feel particularly lucky that another prophecy was governing his life. 

“Let’s hear it then.” 

“Come, they have carved it into the wall.” 

Gregor let the party go ahead of him, following Nerissa. He thought about how tired she looked. Not her normal exhaustion, but a sort of weariness that hunched her shoulders. When Gregor entered the hallway, Luxa turned around and blocked his way. She had not sheathed her sword. 

“Listen,  _ warrior _ ,” she hissed, so quietly only Gregor could hear her. “They all think you’re inexpendable again, but I care not. I go nowhere with you unless you can control yourself. You have a day while we prepare and then, so help me, I will kill you myself and appoint a new warrior. Perhaps I’ll choose one who does not frighten his friends so.”

Gregor looked hard into the eyes that had once loved him. The violet pupils had since turned cold. “I wouldn’t blame you if you did.” He pushed past Luxa and followed the group down the hall. 

They did not travel to Sandwich’s prophecy room, as Gregor had expected. Instead they went to a wing of the palace Gregor had never seen before. The room they entered was very much like the old prophecy room, except that the walls were completely bare. The only mark was a neat column of words at eye level across from the door. Nerissa hung back as the others entered, her weary eyes surveying the blank walls. Was she wondering what might soon be writ upon them? Was it the task of filling those blank walls weighing down her shoulders?

“I am sorry, Gregor,” Nerissa whispered as the others crowded around the prophecy. “I did not intend to coerce you back to a land you so despise.” 

Nerissa’s blunt honesty always put Gregor off a bit. He rubbed his neck while he thought about how to respond. With Nerissa, and Nerissa only, maybe he could serve back some of the same honesty. “I don’t despise it.” 

Gregor moved to stand in front of the prophecy and the Underlanders parted to give him a good view. It was called the Prophecy of the Calling and it read: 

Can you hear the caterwauling

Of the doleful spirits moaning?

Shut you not your ears

To the calling, calling, calling

Turn around, don’t look down,

Careful not to touch the ground.

Melt the ice, thaw the frost

You will reclaim what has been lost

To answer up this bidding

The warrior needs petitioning

For he must reclaim his heart

In the calling, calling calling

The words may come too late

When she sees who lies in wait,

For this queen engaged,

At the calling, calling, calling

Bring her nephew, and two fliers

The librarian, and the one of honor

Leave the king of those who gnaw

And the one who saw your flaw

Turn around, don’t look down,

Careful not to touch the ground.

Look through those you’ve crossed

To see what’s found was never lost

Two forward, one back

Another’s light attacked

Death’s a better fate than joining

The callers, callers, callers

Can you hear the caterwauling

Of the doleful spirits pleading?

Shut you your ears

To the calling, calling, calling

Gregor liked Nerissa’s prophecy better than Sandwich’s. For one thing it seemed a lot more straightforward, at least from the first read. Like maybe Nerissa actually knew the future and could provide specifics, whereas Sandwich had kept his purposefully vague so as to manipulate the future Underlanders into killing each other like he had wanted. Secondly, though the tone was dark, it felt more like a warning than a death sentence. There was that bit about light being attacked, but they could—and had—survived attacks. There was no out-and-out death called for. 

On the other hand, there was no outright purpose. In the past they had traveled to rescue Gregor’s father, to kill the Bane, to retrieve the cure for the plague, and to wage war with the rats. Now there was a “bidding” to do what?

“So… what are we supposed to do?” 

Ripred rolled his eyes and plopped down on the floor. “Sweet Nerissa has gone out of her way to make that clear, which I thank her for. Sandwich never cared to give as much direction. I forgot how we had to spell things out for the warrior.” 

“Be you kinder, Ripred,” Lizzie scolded. “Gregor has not studied the Underland’s geography as we have.” Gregor should have been happy that she was on his side, but he could only focus on how even Lizzie’s speech had become like an Underlander’s. She looked paler than the last time he’d seen her. He wondered if she ever went to the Overland at all anymore. 

“Yes, why would he have taken the time to get to know our world? It’s not like he ever planned to make it his home.” 

An uncomfortable silence hung in the air as everyone exchanged a look with everyone else while simultaneously trying to avoid eye contact at all costs. Gregor felt Luxa’s eyes on him and resolutely looked anywhere else.  _ Damn you, Ripred! _

Lizzie brushed away the awkwardness. “Have you heard of the Cavern of Calling, or Caterwaul Cave?” Lizzie asked. 

Gregor shook his head but felt immediately stupider. If those were places in the Underland then, yes, Nerissa had been quite clear. 

"It's the place where this world meets the next," Lizzie said simply. 

Gregor's mind reeled. “Like… heaven?”

Lizzie shrugged. Gregor noticed that the tension in the room had grown. Even in this land of the eternal weirdness, what Lizzie was talking about was not a comfortable topic.

"So you have a place down here where you can go see the dead? Like, it's marked on a map?"

Luxa exhaled impatiently. It was a minor movement, not worth mentioning except that every little thing Luxa did could be counted on to grate on Gregor's nerves. It was truly her special talent. 

"It is a place of legend. Those who have reported visiting the Cavern have been on the brink of death themselves. It is thought by many to be a collective imagining."

"And by many, her highness means herself. There are those of us who believe," said Ripred. 

"You believe in it?" asked Luxa incredulously. 

"They go somewhere." 

Gregor thought back to his lost pups and wife and how suddenly, tragically they had been lost. Yes, Gregor could believe that Ripred believed in the afterlife. It was how some coped with extraordinary loss. 

Gregor had gone the other way. It was almost easier to admit he would never see his loved ones again. That way there was nothing to look forward too, nothing to be disappointed by. 

"Then why doesn't everyone just go there?"

"It is not such an easy journey. In fact, I don't know anyone who has tried and returned."

Nerissa's happy little prophecy was suddenly seeming much more sinister. 

"The Cavern is told to have a magnetic pull. It is possible those who traveled there did not die on the journey, but instead elected to stay." Gregor thought that Nerissa meant her words to be comforting, but they did little to quell the apprehension growing in his stomach. 

"Okay, okay. So we go to this Cavern and then what?" Gregor forced his mind to consider the practical, even though Ripred would probably make fun of him again. 

This time no one spoke. Ripred lowered his gaze. 

"What?"

"It would seem that the purpose of this prophecy is for the warrior to 'reclaim his heart,'" said Howard carefully. 

"He  _ must _ ," Nerissa emphasized. 

"Okay..." Gregor swallowed. His heart? What had Luxa said to him the last time they had spoken?  _ You gave up my heart.  _ Was this a whole quest about getting back together with Luxa? Even though that was an utterly ridiculous idea, Gregor felt butterflies blossom in his stomach. 

"Do you remember the Prophecy of Bane?" asked Howard. 

That took Gregor for a turn. Of course he remembered the Prophecy of Bane. How could he ever forget it? But how did it relate to Nerissa's prophecy? The Prophecy of Calling or whatever. Evidently the room expected him to gain some incredible insight, or hoped he would. Well, he didn't! 

Finally Luxa stomped her foot on the ground and scowled. But when she looked at Gregor there was something in her eyes that he had not seen in quite some time. 

" _ Die the baby, die his heart _ ," Luxa quoted. "The baby. Boots. She's always been the key to your heart. Your humanity."

No. No no no. Gregor backed away from them. How could that say that? In front of Lizzie? In front of him? How could they even suggest that Boots could be brought back? 

"It's impossible," he whispered to his shaking fingers. 

"I agree." Luxa’s voice was heavy. "But what if it's not?”

Gregor was careful to make his face a blank stone but he decided at that moment that he would not go on this quest. He would play along until he could make this escape. Now that the gnawers were no longer a threat and he was so much more familiar with the Underland, he was confident that he could make his way home, even without a bat to help. Or he would die out in darkness beyond Regalia. He would rather take that chance than entertain The Prophecy of Calling for another moment. He would not set one foot in the direction of the Cavern. To do that would be to allow himself the small hope that Boots’ life could be reclaimed. And that was too dangerous. The truth was that the dead stayed dead. 

“It's not possible,” Gregor said firmly. He looked at Lizzie when he said this. “So Nerissa's words must mean something else. Let’s figure out what it is.”


	3. Plan

The planning meeting was not going well. So far Gregor opposed almost everything that had been suggested. Some, like Lizzie accompanying them, everyone agreed on. As Ripred said, "Obviously she is not invited. It says so in damn prophecy.  _ Leave the king of those who gnaw / And the one who saw the flaw _ . Our clever code-breaker is exempt.” He ruffled Lizzie’s curly hair with a paw. 

"That means you can't come either Ripred." Gregor was annoyed with the casual way the big rat interacted with his sister. 

"Oh  _ no _ , please, don't forbid me from the bottomless pit of everyone I've killed. I was  _ so _ looking forward to seeing them again."

Other things the Underlanders weren't as willing to allow. 

"What do you mean you will not fly?" Luxa demanded. 

"I won't fly on a bat." Gregor crossed his arms. "I'd rather walk to the Cave of Calls or whatever."

"That is ridiculous! You cannot walk that distance. It would take years! Not to mention that much of the distance is unwalkable!"

"That's not a word."

Luxa responded with unintelligible sounds of frustration. 

"You feel it is a betrayal of your bond," said Howard understandingly. "I have felt this too, when Pandora was taken from me."

"Didn't stop you from jumping right on Nike's back," Gregor retorted. The assembled gasped. Gregor knew it was a terrible thing to say but for some reason everytime Howard was nice to him, it made Gregor want to be vicious. Gregor knew he didn't deserve Howard's kindness. 

"How did you become this way?" Luxa asked, violet eyes sharp, full of disgust. Gregor didn't respond. She knew how. She had started him on this path. And she had been there when… his  _ heart _ had been lost. She knew. 

"Forget him," said Howard. "He will ride a bat."

"I won't."

"He will certainly not fly with me," commented Aurora. Nike purred in agreement. 

"See? You won't find a bat who would carry me anyway."

Of this, Gregor was confident. It was doubtful any bat had forgotten how the famous warrior, mad with grief, had gone to their home and threatened them. He was easy enough to disable -- they had simply pushed him off the cliff. If he had been anyone but the famous warrior, he would have been two years dead by now. But because of his high status with the human royal family, they had dumped him unceremoniously at the gates of Regalia for the humans, or whatever hungry creature happened to wander by, to find him. 

Gregor knew now that it was not the bats' fault that Boots had believed she could jump off of anything and be caught. The blame was all Gregor's.

But the time for apologies was long gone. 

"There is one creature who might consent to carry him," said Aurora. Gregor could have swore that Aurora was smiling. It was not a friendly smile. Luxa glanced back at her bat and actually chuckled. 

"The runner? I believe you are right, Aurora."

"I'll get her now." With a flutter of wings, Aurora sailed out of the High Hall. 

"Let me guess, you're getting me a shiner to ride," said Gregor, trying to sound bored. 

"No. This is far funnier," said Ripred, making Gregor extremely nervous. 

Gregor left the High Hall and the group to go by himself to the armory to be outfitted once more with a sword. The one they gave him was bigger than any he'd carried before, which made sense considering how much bigger, how much stronger he was now. Gregor swished it through the air. His rager side buzzed. The sword was not as grand as the Sandwich’s, but it felt right in his hand. That was how Luxa found him — as he battled imaginary enemies, a grin across his face. 

"It fits you well," she observed. 

"You didn't really expect me to travel the Underland unarmed." Gregor gave a pointed glance to her belt on which her sword was already fastened. 

"I suppose I thought you would not be quite so pleased to resume your old role. But I do not know you well enough anymore to predict your actions." 

Gregor felt a coldness in his chest. "Whose fault is that?"

Luxa left without a word; even without a voice she was very capable of letting him know exactly who she felt was at fault for the gaping void between them. 


	4. Runner

They were waiting in the arena after dinner for the arrival of the "runner." Gregor was getting more and more upset with every giggle. The Underlanders had refused to tell him who or what the runner was, but clearly thought it was hilarious. Lizzie took pity on him after a few minutes and whispered "fox" in Gregor's ear. This confused Gregor even more. Knowing the pattern of Underland creatures to be several times the size of their Overland counterparts, Gregor could not fathom what might be funny about a giant fox. It actually sounded kind of cool. 

The gates of the arena opened and a chilly breeze wafted in from tunnels. Not one, but two foxes, both the size of small car marched in. The one on the left had a silvery gray coat while the one of the right was a dark brown. They marched solemnly through the arena and bowed their heads, their noses touching the moss at Gregor’s feet. Without lifting it’s head, the gray one spoke. 

“Oh mighty Overlander, warrior of prophecies great and fearful, it is with honor that I present to you one of our own to help you as you need her help on this new quest you undertake.” 

There was silence in the arena for a moment before Ripred threw himself down laughing. As if waiting for Ripred’s reaction, a third fox, this one a glowing copper, bounded into the arena, her tongue hanging out of her mouth like a dog’s. She had a crazed look of excitement on her face and her eyes darted around the stadium. They came to rest on Gregor and locked in. She charged at him. Gregor was so stupefied by the scene in front of him that his rager side didn’t even act. Instead he allowed his face to be licked by a tongue about the size of a towel, with such force that it knocked him backwards. 

“Overlander!” yelped the fox, standing over him. 

At this point all of the Underlanders were clutching their sides and laughter bent them halfways. 

“You weren’t supposed to come in yet!” whined the grey fox.

“We weren’t done with your introduction.” The brown fox nipped at the red one’s tail and set them all off to a game of chasing around the arena. Gregor stood back up and wiped the drool from his face as best he could with the back of his hand. 

Eventually the foxes ended their game and came to rest before Gregor, looking for all the world like hugely overgrown puppies rolling in the moss. 

“Overlander, we present to you Chewy to assist you in your next quest.” The gray one was clearly in charge, but it was like if a kindergartener was put in charge of two toddlers. The one called ‘Chewy,’ who was to accompany the quest, sprang at the grey one. In bits and pieces, Gregor learned that the grey one was called Loch Ness and the brown one Sasquatch. 

“They name themselves after Overland monsters,” Luxa said to no one in particular, but Gregor guessed he was the only one that didn’t know. “Who knows how they come to learn these monsters.” 

“What monster is  _ Chewy _ ?” Gregor asked, still hoping he had heard her name incorrectly.

“Chu-Chubaa-Chubarabara!” yelped Chewy. 

“Chupacabra,” corrected Loch Ness. “But Chewy can’t say that, so we just call her Chewy.” 

Gregor immediately thought of Boots. She couldn’t pronounce her real name either -- or anyone else’s for that matter, when she was little. 

“How old are you?” Gregor asked. 

“Fourteen!” Chewy exclaimed, chasing her own tail. 

“Their years are not measured like ours,” said Lizzie. “It’s more like dog years.”

Gregor did the math. “You’re two? You want me to travel to the most dangerous place in the Underland with a two year old?” Gregor was incredulous. Was this a giant prank? It wasn’t like the Underlanders to have a sense of humor.

“Well, we could get an older one,” said Ripred as if thinking deeply, “though Chewy  _ is _ fully grown now. She has one other quality that makes her quite … willing to join your mission.” 

Gregor was afraid to ask. “What is it?” 

Chewy charged him again, tripped, and flopped backwards so that she was looking at him upside down. “I’m the president of your fan club!” 

They were making fun of him. Aurora, Luxa, Ripred, all of them. Gregor was by himself, sulking in the only place he could sulk. The Museum. It was filled with possessions pilfered from Overlanders who had perished in the Underland over the years. As a boy, Gregor had found the Museum simply a useful supply closet for things he might use on his trips. Now that he thought about it, the Museum was a creepy, creepy thing. Even the name, the Museum, more like mausoleum. 

They didn’t expect him to really ride with Chewy, they were trying to shame him into complying, into riding a bat, into joining the quest, into delving back into this world that he had promised to leave behind. Chewy was perfect for that. The president of his “fan club.” In the arena Chewy had gone on and on, showing off all of the facts she knew about the Overlander, the Warrior. All Gregor could think was that he hadn’t even known about the foxes. 

“Luxa discovered them.” 

Gregor wasn’t surprised that Lizzie had found him. He wasn’t really hiding, after all. 

“The foxes?” 

“Yes, the Underlanders call them the runners. They can cover incredible distances, faster than any bat in the air.” 

Gregor nodded. It didn’t matter. He wouldn’t be riding Chewy anywhere. 

“Luxa has been exploring the Uncharted Lands. The runners were some of the first creatures she found. They allied themselves with the humans almost immediately; they love our culture.” 

“The killers,” Gregor whispered. 

“What?” 

“If you’re gonna call foxes “runners” you ought to call humans by their Underland name.” 

Lizzie didn’t respond. She stayed where she was, at the doorway, looking at the ground. Eventually Gregor shifted and patted the spot next to him. Lizzie was sitting by him in an instant. She leaned against his shoulder. Gregor tried to remember the last time he had been touched. Most people were too afraid. Then he remembered Angelica… Angelica wasn’t afraid of him; Gregor was a little afraid of her. And thinking about her next to his little sister made him blush.

“I don’t think you can keep talking like that,” said Lizzie. 

“Like what?” 

“Like the Underlanders are automatically bad.” 

Gregor thought about it. No, talking like that probably wouldn’t make his quest very pleasant. But it might make all of his friends resentful enough to write him off as a lost case when he disappeared. Maybe they would let him leave.

“You don’t believe you’re going to get Boots.” 

Lizzie’s voice was so quiet Gregor almost didn’t hear her. But he knew what she had said. He didn’t answer. 

“It might be nothing.”

Gregor still said nothing. Boots’ death had effectively killed his family. Grandma had gone soon after, quietly in her sleep. Then Lizzie had started spending more and more time down in the Underland until she disappeared down there forever. Gregor’s parents had fought, viciously. Gregor’s dad now lived in Virginia, at the farm where he had grown up. Gregor’s mom commuted back and forth, but she wouldn’t leave their apartment, Lizzie and Gregor’s home. 

And Gregor… initially he too had sought refuge in the Underland. There was a big funeral for Boots; Regalian royalty and all the cockroaches had all been there. But quickly enough, Gregor began to resent the place for the part it had played in Boots’ death. He would rant and scream and cry for hours, up at Ares’ secret cave, with Luxa sitting, listening, helpless. Eventually he didn’t even want Luxa there. In the Overland, his friends had switched from the brainy outcasts to the dropout outcasts. After drinking half a bottle of something purchased from someone’s older brother, Gregor had gone to confront the bats. That had been the final straw: Luxa had dumped him. Only a week later the “incident” had happened in school. To the day, Gregor could not remember it. One minute Nolan Brigand, the school bully, was tossing around some small freshman, the next Nolan’s head was bashed on the ground and Gregor’s hands were red with his blood.

Gregor remembered that night, spent in a foul-smelling jail cell. He had cried the entire night. He had used his one phone call on his old neighbor, Mrs. Cormaci and had spent the whole call begging for Luxa. She hadn’t come. 

Then it was lawyers and courtrooms and judges telling Gregor that he should be thanking his lucky stars that Nolan had managed to live. Because Gregor, a first time offender, had been defending someone else, Gregor’s sentence had been light. Eight months in a juvenile detention center. 

Gregor shut his eyes and tried to push the memories away. He didn’t want to think about them anymore. 

“Gregor?” Lizzie’s voice broke into his thoughts. Gregor started, he had nearly forgotten where he was. 

“What’s up, Liz?” 

“I know… I know that you don’t believe in the Cavern of Calling. And maybe, you know, maybe it’s not even a real place. But, until you know for sure, will you promise that you will do your best to get Boots back?” 

There it was. The last person Gregor cared about, the only person he could say that he loved, asking for something he wasn’t sure he could give. He looked into her eyes, set deep in her pale face. 

“Yes, Lizzie, I promise. If it’s possible to get Boots back, I’ll do it.” 

“You’ll do whatever it takes?”

“Whatever it takes.” 

Just like that Gregor knew he had set himself on the road of destruction. 


	5. The Librarian

He met up with the group in the High Hall again. Luxa, Aurora, Hazard, Ripred, Howard, Nike, Nerissa, a bat Gregor didn’t know, and that man again, the one with the glasses. 

“Where’s Chewy?” asked Gregor, sitting down and helping himself to some food though he had not been invited. “Hey Hazard, you gonna come on this thing?”

Hazard nodded happily. “And Chewy is coming?” asked the boy excitedly. Hazard was about Lizzie’s age and going through an awkward stage to rival Lizzie’s own. 

Luxa looked confused. “You will consent to riding the runner?”

“Well, she’s mentioned in the prophecy.” 

Everyone was thrown by that one, except Nerissa who slapped the table and said, “Yes!”

“Fill us in, warrior,” said Ripred. 

“ _ One of honor _ ,” Gregor quoted. “That’s what Loch Ness said when she introduced Chewy, that accompanying the Overland warrior was the greatest honor for a runner. Who do we need now? Overlander, check. Queen, check. Queen’s cousin… Hazard, Nerissa, you’ll have to fight for it. Two fliers: Aurora’s not letting Luxa out of her sight if I’m involved. Nike doesn’t really want to be in my presence and since Howard isn’t going, there’s no way Nike’s leaving. I’m guessing that you are Hazard’s flier?” Gregor addressed the third unknown flier who bobbed his or her head. 

“Ganymede,” she said in a high voice. 

“Pleasure. So that leaves the librarian. Let’s go raid a library and get this thing going.” 

There was a silence Ripred’s tail flicked above his head. Then the man in the glasses spoke. 

“I am Lysander,” he said, extending a hand to Gregor. “I work at the Great Regalian Library. I am Head Librarian.” 

“Sounds like you’ll fit the bill then. Should we all get going?”

“Someone’s in a better mood,” observed Ripred.

“Yet still an ass,” declared Luxa. 

“Damn straight,” Gregor said, looking her right in the eye. This was how he was going to have to do it. In order to get through an extended trip with Luxa, he was going to have to behave like the jerk she thought he was. Alienating her completely was the only way to spend time with her. 

“What about the exchange?” asked Hazard. 

“The exchange?”

“The soul. To trade for Boots.” 

“What are you talking about, Hazard?” Luxa was worried. She had been charged with Hazard’s care since the death of her uncle, his father. Gregor knew she often feared she was not doing a good job. It was one of the things she had confided in Gregor that no one else knew. 

“In order to retrieve a soul from the Cavern, you need to give one.”

Luxa looked around the table, at first confused and then accusing. “No one said anything of this. Nerissa, your prophecy tells nothing about a sacrifice.” 

“It’s not my prophecy,” Nerissa offered weakly.

“You knew!” 

“Of course she knew,  _ Your Highness _ ,” said Ripred. “Everyone knows. Maybe if you paid attention to your own history — ”

“Mythology!” Luxa interrupted. “Fables told to me when I was young. I am sorry that I have been concerning myself with the realities of my position; would you rather a queen whose head is full of nothing but cradle tales!” 

“You are not my queen,” Ripred said, not even bothering to look up from his dinner. Gregor could tell that this was not one of Luxa’s normal outbursts, but building into full-blown hysterics. Surely someone else would notice?

“We will not be exchanging a soul. We will find another way.” 

“There is no other way,” said Hazard earnestly.  _ Stop him _ , thought Gregor wordlessly. Hazard was a good kid, but a little clueless when it came to social cues. Probably because he had grown up in a jungle with a lizard for a best friend. 

“We will  _ not _ find one.” Luxa’s eyes burned with violet fire. “There is no room for a sacrifice anyways. Warrior, queen, cousin, two fliers, librarian, and… Chewy.”

“Unless we are meant to find one on our journey. Someone “lies in wait” for us.” 

“Silence, Hazard!” 

The whole table grew quiet. 

Luxa stood. “Come, Hazard,” she said, trying to infuse her voice with a feeling other than anger. “Let us get some rest. As should everyone.” She glared around the table. “We leave early tomorrow.” She practically pulled Hazard out of his seat and dragged him from the room. 

“Someone should speak with her before you all depart,” Ripred said. His eyes flicked over the table and landed briefly on Gregor. Gregor’s muscles tensed to stand before he remembered: he was treating Luxa like shit. 

“I will speak with her,” volunteered the librarian.  _ Good luck _ , Gregor thought. But if the random dude thought that he could do anything to comfort Luxa, Gregor wasn’t going to burst his bubble. 

Later, when Gregor walked Lizzie to her room, he had a thought. “Hey, Liz, did you know about the exchange?” 

Lizzie didn’t bother to deny it. “You said you’d do  _ anything _ ,” she said quietly. “You promised.” 

“I’m not going back on that,” Gregor said. Inside he was sad. In a way he knew that Lizzie had to grow up and that growing up in the Underworld — or anywhere for that matter — meant growing hard. But he wished he could have saved her for just a few more years. 

Gregor said goodnight and walked slowly through the passages until he realized that he had no destination in mind. He no longer had a usual room in the palace. He used to crash in the royal apartments with Luxa, but there was no way he was welcome there anymore. Suddenly his feet picked up pace and he was heading towards the royal apartments. It was the perfect thing to do, to demand to be given a place to sleep — which Luxa would certainly refuse. But it would annoy her to no end and that would satisfy Gregor. 

He nearly began sprinting when he got to the hallway leading to her room, excited by his plan. He skidded to a halt when the doors opened from within. The librarian stepped out. Gregor was confused for a second before he remembered that the librarian — Lysander — had offered to comfort Luxa. That couldn’t have gone well. 

“Gregor!” called out Lysander. 

“Hey, man,” Gregor said reluctantly. He was looking forward to annoying Luxa, he didn’t want to waste time with small talk. 

“This is a happy coincidence. I wanted to speak with you but thought I would have a hard time finding you.”

“Okay.” 

“I wanted to speak with you, man to man, before we left. Shall we take a walk? I can show you the Great Library.” 

“Umm, I mean, that sounds great but…” 

“Come, I want to show you something.” 

Lysander walked quickly through the palace and Gregor followed, a few steps behind. Lysander chattered the whole way through the city, which was still being rebuilt, six years after the damage of the War with Gnawers. Lysander was twenty four, he had been working at the Library since he was eight, something about being orphaned … Gregor only half listened. 

“Here we are!” 

They stood facing an enormous building with a massive arched entrance. 

“The Library is one of Regalia’s crowning achievements. We could have a door, but the Order of Librarians long ago decided that knowledge should be readily available to the public. We represented this by taking the door Regalia built for us and making it into a table for study.”

Lysander led them through the arch and into a singular, huge octagonal room covered in what looked like honeycomb. In each compartment the walls were honeycombed with small sections, each containing a scroll. Gregor estimated that in each section there had to be at least two thousand scrolls, and there were hundreds of sections. 

“Wow.” 

“Come,” said Lysander, leading Gregor farther into the library. They passed many people. Some were dressed in the normal clothes of the Underland, while others wore green robes. Gregor guessed they were the librarians. Lysander stopped at a small alcove. Carved out of stone was the likeness of a man. He was not very tall and dressed in old-fashioned looking clothes. At his feet was a carved plaque that read: Sandwich. 

Lysander didn’t linger next to Sandwich, which Gregor appreciated. He had heard enough about the founder. To the right of Sandwich was a hexagonal hallway, decorated every few feet with a sculpted head. “And here are all of the leaders of Regalia. One day Luxa will have her own bust as well.” Gregor walked through the long hall quickly. He didn’t like the feeling of the blank marble eyes. He didn’t like knowing that these were the people who had built and shaped the violent history of Regalia. He liked even less the thought of Luxa being added to this collection one day. 

Gregor came to a stop in front of the final bust. It was of a man he had never met but had heard much about. King Duncan, Luxa’s father. He was young when he died and young in the marble likeness. He had a beard and a full head of hair. His bone structure was regal and his eyes serious, yet his lips were shaped as if just on the verge of a smile. This may have just been due to the sculptor that created the likeness, but Gregor imagined that it was true. 

“Duncan was a great king. He died before he had time to finish his plans.” 

Lysander spoke reverently of the deceased monarch, but Gregor had to wonder. When he had come to the Underland, it was on the brink of war. A brink that Luxa had been forced to deal with, at twelve years old. A brink that had ripped apart numerous Underlander families, and Gregor’s family was well. Was it Duncan’s death that had plunged the Underland into peril? Or had the king been itching for a fight? 

Gregor exited the hall quickly. The rest of it’s length was empty, waiting for more Regalian leaders to die. Gregor was so grateful to no longer be surrounded by sightless, marble eyes that he didn’t even recognize what was in front of him. 

Another statue stood on a pedestal. The figure was larger than life, holding a sword above his head, and a dagger guarding his left side. 

“This is a new addition to the library,” Lysander said. 

Gregor looked at the figure’s feet and saw his own name staring back up at him. He turned away from the statue before he smashed it to pieces with his bare hands. 

“Is this what you wanted to talk to me about?” he asked. 

“No. I just thought to show it to you.” Lysander paused. “Though I will say this: I know you are not so much in favor with your old friends, nor are they held high in your favor either. But Reglia does not forget. We owe you a huge debt and the people here will long remember your name as a savior.” 

Gregor thought he might be sick. When Lysander beckoned him away from his statue he was more than happy to go. Lysander led Gregor to a small hexagonal room with a desk and a few stools. “This is my study, please, sit.” 

Gregor sat. The day was finally sinking in. He was back--in the Underland. He was on the verge of another perilous journey. He was in the company once more of people he thought he would never see again. 

“I thought we should talk before we headed out on a quest together of indeterminable length and certain danger.” 

“Sure.” 

“Luxa was worried that we may butt heads, but I for one bear you no ill will.” 

“Okay.” Gregor was confused. It was a feeling similar to trying to remember a dream. Something was banging on the edges of his tired brain but he couldn’t quite catch it. Something about Lysander, something from the prophecy, something about a look from Ripred… 

“Now I certainly would not blame you if some feelings for Luxa still lingered; she does leave quite an impression on the soul. But I also know you to be a man of honor, and I know that you will respect Luxa’s choices…” 

Gregor’s body was putting together Lysander’s words before his thought could catch up. His chest felt a little tight as he asked, “What is Luxa’s choice?” 

“Well… me. We are to be married directly after her official coronation.” 

Gregor’s hands gripped the edges of his stool as he tried hard to remain calm, tried to fight the buzzing in his veins.  _ Don’t rage, don’t rage, don’t rage. _

“Congratulations.” Gregor tried to do the math in his head. Her official coronation. Though Luxa had been queen since she was twelve, that was due to the brutal murder of her parents. Traditionally, in the Underworld, children couldn’t ascend the throne until their eighteenth birthday. Luxa’s birthday was one month before his which meant… “It’s this week.” 

Lysander nodded, smiling. “Yes. Luxa and I will wed when we return from the quest. I wanted to have the ceremony now, in private, to make it official before we head together on our quest. But Luxa must abide by the rules of her people.” 

Gregor knew that. Luxa had to get married. Regalians did not have unmarried monarchs. In such a dangerous role, the line of succession had to be clear, there must be both a king and a queen, and as soon as possible, princes and princesses. Gregor tried to explain that in the Overland, it was shocking when an eighteen year old had a kid, but Luxa just couldn’t fathom his world. She had never tried. Vikus had been no help. 

“Regalia needs stability as we attempt to rebuild.” 

Gregor hadn’t considered that Luxa was still bound to those rules even after they broke up. But of course she was. Lysander. Head Librarian. How long had it taken Vikus to find him? Had Lysander always been lying in wait, in case Gregor didn’t cut it? 

“Gregor? Are you all right?” 

Gregor nodded stiffly. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine. I’m just surprised. I… forgot that Luxa was turning eighteen this year. But. This is great. Congratulations.” 

“Thank you, Gregor.” Lysander gripped Gregor’s hand. “And I hope, when we return from our quest, that you will attend the wedding.” 

Gregor nodded, thinking that maybe this quest—which was sure to be long if they had to cross the entire Underworld and face the dead—wasn’t the worst news he had received. 


	6. Chapter 6

Gregor awoke at dawn on Lizzie’s floor.  _ For the queen engaged _ . Gregor shook his head; he had dreamed of that line all night. It had been right there, screaming at him, and yet he had ignored it, and so had everyone else. They must really think he was ready to snap. Gregor put his head in his hands. Did they think he would attack Lysander? Did they think he would hurt Luxa?

“Good morning!” said Lizzie cheerfully, emerging from the bathroom. 

Gregor took a good look at his sister. She was paler, for sure. But she wasn’t as scary skinny as she used to be. And her hands didn’t shake anymore. She really seemed to think it was a good morning in the Underland.

“Don’t you miss the sun, Liz?” he asked as they got ready. 

She shrugged. “You get used to it.” 

Gregor knew that to be true. 

“I got you these, from the Museum,” she said, holding up a bundle. 

It contained his usual set of travel materials. An extra set of clothes, a few candy bars, and three flashlights, each with a replacement set of batteries. “But I got the echolocation down, I don’t need flashlights anymore.” That was one thing that Gregor was still proud of. 

“I don’t think sound is going to bounce off of spirits,” Lizzie said, looking at her fingernails. 

Gregor took the flashlights silently and packed everything in his backpack. After deliberation, Gregor decided to take the crowbar he had brought with him as well.

Together Gregor and Lizzie made their way down to the High Hall. There they found Ripred, Vikus (who looked very old), Aurora, Chewy, and to Gregor’s surprise, Tick the cockroach. Before Gregor could greet his old friend, Chewy bounded over and licked Gregor’s face, which felt like being attacked by a car wash. 

“Overlander! Are you so excited?”

“To go to the land of the dead?” 

“Yup!” Chewy barked. “We will get to travel and quest and fight and then when I come back to our Gregor Fan Club meetings, I will get to tell all of our stories!” 

“Whatever makes you happy. I have to go say hi to Tick.” 

“The angry cockroach?” Chewy inquired. 

Gregor didn’t know about angry. Maybe a little confusing, but the most salient emotion he had ever gotten from Tick was love for his sister, Boots. However, as Gregor approached he could see that Tick was indeed in a heated argument with Vikus and Ripred. 

“I come!” he clicked loudly. “I come, save the princess, I come, I must.” 

“Hey, Tick,” said Gregor. 

Tick turned to see who it was and started clicking wildly. He reached out with one antenna, and tickled Gregor’s hand. “Overlander. Tell them, you must, I must come. To save the princess.” 

“Why can’t Tick come?” Gregor asked. 

Ripred sighed and rolled his eyes. 

“He is not mentioned in the prophecy, Gregor.”

“Well.” Gregor paused to think. “Hey, are you a librarian, Tick?”

“Librarian?” asked Tick, unfamiliar with the word. 

Ripred snorted. “Still without a subtle bone in your body.” 

Gregor felt his face redden. “Fine! Tick’s not a librarian. But why can’t he come? As, like, a friend?” 

Ripred continued to laugh.

“I worry--” Vikus paused a moment, “I worry that this may be the most dangerous quest you have gone on.” 

“What?” Gregor laughed. Maybe it was the lack of peril in Regalia, or maybe he just didn’t believe that they would ever find the Cavern, but Gregor couldn’t bring himself to believe that this was any more dangerous than crossing the Underworld sea or traveling to the jungle where the very plants were murderous. 

“See, Vikus? I told you he was as arrogant and soft-headed as always,” said Ripred. 

“Well then, why don’t you explain it to me,” Gregor said, angrily. “What in this quest is more dangerous than a plague, or flesh-eating mites, or a  _ war _ ? We survived all of that. What could possibly hurt us now?”

Ripred leaned forward, bearing down on Gregor until his scratched teeth were inches from Gregor’s face. “You think you’re a special little boy? You think that you stayed alive because you alone hold a skill the rest of us do not possess? You stayed alive because I wanted you to. Because Vikus wanted you to. Because the Underworld needed to believe in you. You stayed alive because of Hamnet, and Twitchtip, and Ares--”

Gregor struck Ripred right on his nose and darted back, getting his fists up. It was the stupidest thing he could have done at that moment. Gregor knew he needed to get his anger at Ripred out in the open, but attacking him first, and without a weapon, that was as foolhardy as Ripred said he was. It didn't matter. Ripred knew better than to mention Ares to him. 

A nasty smile stretched over Ripred’s snout. “That,” he whispered.

The adrenaline buzzing through Gregor’s limbs and brain made it hard to form words. “What?” he shouted.

Ripred sat back. “ _ That _ . You. What danger does this quest have that none before has? Not only are you heading for a dangerous place, but a burning ember that could explode at any moment with an unknown ferocity accompanies your group. You, Gregor. You’re more dangerous than ever before, and that is no compliment.” 

Gregor’s fists sagged. “What? You don’t like fighting anymore? Too old?” 

Ripred sat at the nearest table, scooping up some food there. “We will fight, Overlander. However, they have need of you on the quest and I do not plan to be gentle. We will resume this conversation when you return.” 

Vikus placed a hand on Gregor’s shoulder. Gregor twitched. He looked at Vikus. Vikus was so old these days, and so sad. 

“Let not his words affect you, Gregor. Ripred believes that to ready someone for a heavy task, he must ignite their anger. He does it on purpose.” 

“What about you?” 

“I believe a calm mind best--” 

“No,” Gregor interrupted. “Do you think I’m…ready to explode at any moment?” 

Vikus sighed and sat. “You have experienced more loss than you have had time to comprehend. The hurt tries to escape you, and you try to lock it inside. No, I would not send you on this quest at this time. But I never knew a warrior to resist a battle cry.” 

Gregor wanted to argue, but there was no point he could think of that would contradict Vikus. 

“Good morning, Overlander!” 

Gregor turned to see a cheery Lysander enter the High Hall, leading Luxa by the hand. Gregor’s stomach turned. 

“Good morning, Gregor,” said Luxa stonily. 

Luckily they were saved from their conversation by the arrival of Aurora, Hazard, and Ganymede. Aurora landed at Luxa’s side. She informed Luxa that they had retrieved all of the necessary supplies. 

Luxa nodded. “Let us depart. We have much ground to cover.” 

“Majesty, your majesty.” Tick pushed himself to the front of the assembled. Gregor could tell that he was nervous, his clicking stuttered as he addressed the queen. “I requested to, I must save the princess. I want to go with.” 

Luxa seemed torn. “I am sorry, Tick. The prophecy states who is to come and you are not in our number.” 

“Yeah,” said Gregor. “But it doesn’t say to leave him behind like Lizzie and Ripred either.”

Luxa was clearly displeased. 

“Tick is nowhere in the prophecy and I do not feel right bringing those who are not involved on this quest.”

“We still need a trade,” said Hazard. 

“Hazard!” Luxa was stunned. 

Ripred laughed from his table. “Wouldn’t his father be so proud?” 

Gregor, who was accustomed to Ripred’s cruelty, was not used to it being thrown at Luxa. Though the two often fought, it was the fight of two equals. Had something happened between the two? They were meant to be bonds, surely Ripred couldn’t talk to her, torment her demons, like this in public. 

Gregor remembered the scene well. Hamnet lay dying in the jungle, slaughtered by the fire ants, trying to protect what they thought was the cure to the curse of the warmbloods. He had entrusted Hazard to Luxa, but he had made her promise to keep him from being a soldier. 

“I mean he isn’t technically a soldier,” said Ripred, coming closer. “But that… _ suggestion _ , that is pure Solovet.” 

Luxa twitched at the name of her grandmother and continued to stare at the floor with an empty expression. 

“Excuse me, Ripred.” Gregor was surprised to see Lysander intervening. It wasn’t the average human that stood toe to toe with the scarred rat. “I must ask that you do not speak to Luxa in this manner. You know what you do.” 

Gregor half expected Ripred to lean down with his massive jaws and make a snack of Lysander’s head. Instead the rat backed off. 

“My apologies.” 

Gregor was shocked. It was clear that Ripred wasn’t sorry in the least, but he had apologized, which was more than he had ever given when Gregor had gotten involved. Somehow Lysander’s quiet words had done more than Gregor’s threats or weapons. 

“Come, Hazard,” said Luxa quietly, shepherding her cousin to Ganymede. Lysander mounted Aurora, with enough room in front of him to allow Luxa. Gregor knelt down next to Tick. He was sure the cockroach would be confused by the scene that had just played out. 

“Hey, there,” Gregor said. 

“I will, the trade, I will be,” said Tick, lifting his head off the ground. 

Gregor sucked in a big breath. The roach was willing to give up his life for Gregor’s sister, the princess. “No, buddy.” He patted the bug on his hard shell. “We’re gonna figure out another way.” Gregor looked after Luxa, who sat on Aurora’s back, still shocked. “But I’ll never forget that you offered.” 

“Save the princess, Gregor.” 

Gregor nodded and walked to the departure party. Chewy’s tail swished back and forth in excitement. Aurora, Luxa, and Lysander looked strong and united. Hazard, atop Ganymede, looked young and innocent, full of possibility. Gregor knew he was the outcast. He had a black eye, a split lip, and a bad attitude. He tried to be human as he hugged Lizzie goodbye, but his arms moved robotically. 

Ripred and a Regalian man approached the group and Gregor felt his spirits lift a little. Sure, Ripred was probably going to say something obnoxious, but at least it would feel like old times. 

Instead, the rat changed directions abruptly to speak with Luxa. Gregor was so distracted with the lonesome feeling in his chest that he didn’t recognize the man accompanying Ripred until he was standing right in front of him. 

“Mareth!” he said, so shocked that genuine happiness escaped. 

Mareth, the tall soldier, pulled Gregor in for a one-armed hug. His other arm held tight to a small crutch that he used to compensate for his missing leg. 

“Good to see you, Overlander.” 

Gregor marveled at Mareth. He had always been older and bigger than Gregor, but he looked like a real man now. He had a beard, which was a slightly lighter shade than his curly hair. 

“It’s good to see you too.” Gregor was surprised by how much he meant it. He was surprised by how much feeling there was behind his statements. For so long, Gregor’s feeling about the Underland had been bottled up. Gregor had been pretty successful at following his rule of never thinking about this place. And when he did slip, it was because he thought of Luxa, or Ares, or Boots. Those three were symbols for some of the most powerful, the most difficult feelings he had encountered. His friendship with Mareth, no matter how genuine, had been cast to the side and out of his mind. 

“You’ve grown,” Mareth observed. “Are you taking care of yourself?” 

“Yeah, yeah, I’ve started working out at a boxing gym.” 

“Boxing?” The term was unfamiliar to the Underlander. 

“Yeah, like hand-to-hand combat. It’s intense.” Gregor began explaining his training routine to Mareth, who responded with interest. But it was soon cut short. Lysander alerted Gregor that they were about to leave. 

“Well, it was good to see you, man. I wish we could have talked for longer.” 

“We have time still. I am to accompany you on the first leg of your journey.” 

Gregor couldn’t help but feel relief. Mareth would be a good barrier between the complicated feelings that Gregor was having about all of the other members of the group. 

He approached Chewy, uncertain of how he was supposed to get on her. She eagerly bent her forelegs so he could jump on her back. Ripred swished his tail back and forth but said nothing. The bats circled above. 

“Hold on!” Chewy called joyfully. The bats surged upward and Chewy took a running jump, soaring higher than Gregor would have thought possible. Through the streets of Regalia and out into the darkness of the Underworld, Chewy, Gregor, and Ripred ran underneath the bats above. 


	7. Ambush

Riding Chewy was nothing like flying with Ares. Except for when they hit hard wind currents, Gregor hardly ever noticed Ares’ wings beating. On Chewy, Gregor was jostled every time her paw hit the ground. Gregor used to take naps on Ares’ back. Just riding Chewy demanded a nap. Gregor had to grip Chewy hard for the entire ride. When they arrived at Reach and Gregor dismounted, every muscle was sore.

“How is traveling with the runner?” asked Luxa when they landed to rest, a knowing smirk passing her lips. 

“Not any harder than trying to have a conversation with Ripred,” Gregor sighed, massaging his aching muscles. 

Confusion, and a millisecond of amusement, passed over Luxa’s face before she remembered that she hated him and recast her features. 

They traveled for what Gregor guessed was a whole day. It was hard to tell without the sun present to offer a clue. As they neared the end of the day, the cave walls on either side of them began to narrow, making a sort of hallway with a dark stone ceiling. It continued to narrow until it was no wider than a football field. That was when he could see Reach in the distance. 

The city ran from one cavern wall to the other with a wall flush against each side. In front of the wall was a dry moat and a bridge could be lowered down to allow visitors to cross. Behind the city was blackness: the Vastlands, Gregor guessed. Aurora, with Luxa and Lysander, touched down before the moat. The other bats joined them and then Ripred, Chewy, and Gregor joined them. 

Luxa and Ripred met at the center of their loose formation. They stared into each other’s eyes, both refusing to be the first to break. 

“Let’s get dressed,” said Luxa. 

“Surprised you let me carry this,” said Ripred, shrugging out of a bag that had been tied around him. 

Luxa didn’t answer him, but instead bent to the ground and began unpacking the contents onto the stone ground. The first thing that Luxa pulled out were a pair of crowns. One was delicate and human sized, obviously for her own head. The other was large and clumsy. Gregor hadn’t seen it since the last time he had seen King Gorger, the previous king of the rats, before Bane, the gigantic monster. Gregor guessed that Bane’s abnormally large head couldn’t fit the crown. How Ripred had gotten a hold of this crown, Gregor couldn’t guess. He was more surprised that it was Ripred’s now to wear. 

Neither Luxa nor Ripred picked up the crowns. Instead they lay on the ground while Luxa pulled other ornaments out of the pack. Hazard got a purple tunic with the Regalian crest on it. Lysander got a green silk sash with a hexagonal pin that must have marked him as part of the Great Library. Lastly, Luxa held out a red tunic to Gregor, a tunic that matched the one that Mareth wore. 

She didn’t look at him as she did this, and shook it impatiently when he didn’t grab it. Finally, she was forced to look up at him, his arms crossed across his chest. 

“What?” she asked, exasperated. 

“I’m not part of the Regalian army.” 

Luxa got to her feet. Got close enough to whisper. “You’re the  _ freaking warrior _ . In what other uniform do you think you belong?” 

“I’m not your warrior anymore.” 

“Oh really?” 

“Yeah.” 

“Because you’ve changed.” 

“I have.” 

“You’re so different from the person you once were.”

Gregor didn’t answer. He knew he was being goaded. 

“Why do you not take a look around and tell me what is so different. Examine yourself. You are on a quest, in the company of a queen, a king, in the  _ Underland _ ! Do not dare to presume that you are better than us. Do not dare to think that your morals elevate you to some higher place. You are in my world, Gregor the Overlander. You follow my rules.” 

At this point, Gregor realized that the rest of the group was gathered around them, silent, staring. Gregor grabbed the red tunic and put it on over his t-shirt. He also cinched the jeweled sword belt around his waist when it was offered to him. 

“Great,” said Luxa, with a facade of calm. “Now that everyone’s presentable… let’s proceed. Remember, the city of Reach is the farthest human city. They had lived in near isolation over the centuries. They are allied with Regalia out of convenience. From what I remember, Lord Antonio is a proud man. But he is our host, and we will show him respect.” 

Ripred met Luxa at the front of their party and exchanged a nod but no words. They approached the large, dry moat. The bottom of the pit was dark and covered in thorny brambles taken in from the jungles. The sides were sheer rock. As the party got nearer, a stone bridge was lowered by two metal chains that protested loudly. 

Across the bridge walked an extremely large man. It made Gregor pause and wonder if he had ever seen a fat Underlander before. He couldn’t remember one. The man was dressed in rich clothing and extended a hand to Luxa along with a cloying smile. He didn’t acknowledge Ripred. 

“Queen Luxa! It is a pleasure and honor to see you in Reach. You are the first of your family in many generations to visit the city.” He lowered his head to touch his lips to Luxa’s hand. It made Gregor shudder. 

“I am happy to be here, my lord. My apologies that we have been so long out of touch,” said Luxa. 

Antonio shrugged. “In or out of touch, Reach remains a staunch supporter of your family -- and your kingdom.” 

Luxa nodded. “We must remedy the communication problem between our cities.” 

The man bowed and led the party across the bridge and in through the gates. The wall that surrounded the town was several meters thick. Passing through the front gate was more like walking through a small tunnel. It was dotted with slitted windows, where archers could attack anyone passing through. When the bridge was drawn up once more, it was like a trap snapping closed. Gregor’s throat itched at the thought. 

Lysander slowed his pace to join Gregor at the back of the group. “Lord Antonio’s family has guarded Reach since the city’s founding. Sandwich stationed him here to be the first beacon alarm should trouble ever arise out of the Vastlands.” 

“The Vastlands?”

“We’ll see them tomorrow when we start our journey officially. They are what they sound, a big, dark, desert. As far as we know, no creatures live in the Vastlands, so Sandwich’s plan for Reach being a beacon to sound danger never really paid off. But don’t tell Lord Antonio that.” Lysander winked. 

“You may leave your animals here for the night,” said Lord Antonio, as they neared a stable. Gregor had never heard of other Underland creatures referred to as animals, and he had certainly never heard anyone suggest that they should be put into stables. The bats ruffled their wings and Chewy’s head swung as her eyes darted around, looking around. Ripred’s tail had come off the ground once more. 

Luxa spoke up. “I don’t mean to offend your traditions, Lord Antonio, but we here are all accustomed to every creature being treated equally.” 

Gregor thought this was a little much. Up until a few years ago, rats were as equal as the target dummies.

Lord Antonio thought about it. “I see.” He paused and then smiled. “Well, I can’t refuse a queen. If they can fit, they can come.”

This turned out to be a very constricting rule as soon as they arrived at the dining hall. It was clear that Chewy, the bats, and Ripred were not going to be able to fit through the human-sized door. Gregor had to admire Luxa. Without losing a tone of respect or belaying the anger that her bond was feeling, she arranged for the long tables to be brought outside and for the whole party to eat together there. 

The dinner was pretty much Gregor’s worst nightmare. A bunch of people who thought they were important sitting around, telling each other just how important they were. Luxa was at the center of it, of course. She was queen; she was the most important of all of them. Everyone wanted her attention, everyone wanted her gaze, her attention, her approval. 

Gregor was surprised to find himself a desirable guest as well. Nobles and generals gave him their attention and showered him in compliments. All of their comments came from what they knew of his exploits as the warrior of prophecy and they were all reminders about why he was angry and out of place. Quickly, his awkward, clumsy small talk belied his displeasure and he was left alone. He couldn’t complain. 

Finally the conversation came around to the quest. 

“So, my queen, I hear that this is only the first stop on a longer journey.” Lord Antonio turned his whole expansive body toward Luxa. 

Luxa nodded and took a sip out of a silver goblet. “Yes, my lord, you are correct.” 

“And what takes you out into the Vastlands?” 

“Routine foray.” Luxa sounded casual. “As you may have heard, I am making an effort to connect the various regions and creatures of the Underland under a banner of peace.” 

“Hmm.” Lord Antonio was not impressed. 

“And I want Reach to be a prominent part of that banner,” said Luxa. “I’ll be leaving behind King Ripred and one of my top generals, Mareth, to finalize the details of the treaty.” 

“This is the treaty that you and… this gnawer developed after the last war.” 

“It is.” 

“I do not mean to be critical, my queen, but it is my fear that this treaty was a bit hasty in it’s creation. I know the war had a big impact on Regalia, but look at Reach, we were barely affected. There is no need to rush into a deal with unsavory creatures such as these. We can come up with a better solution.”

There was a long silence. Gregor thought it was pretty brave -- and very stupid -- to call Ripred an “unsavory creatures.” The big rat continued to fill his plate and devour everything in sight. If he took offense, he was saving his animosity for a later time.

“I thank you for your advice,” said Luxa. “But I firmly believe in the necessity of this treaty and I want you and your people to be a part of it.” 

“So you say this is a routine journey that you are taking?” 

“Yes. I’ve conducted many similar trips in the past year--”

“And you normally go without a royal guard?” 

“I beg your pardon?” 

“I mean, with Mareth and  _ Ripred _ left behind in Reach, your only protection will be the librarian and a child.” 

There was silence around the table. 

Ripred cleared his throat. “You forget about the warrior.” Ripred tapped Gregor on the shoulder with his tail. “The mighty soldier of prophecy. He is the hero of the last war and more than enough protection for the queen.” 

Again, Luxa’ diplomacy prevailed over the swirling maelstrom that she must feel, having to acknowledge Gregor’s value. She smiled brightly. “You have a keen eye, my lord. I find it best practice to travel with a small convoy. Some creatures have never heard of humans before and they may be frightened if I arrive with too large of a force. Lysander is a scholar who specializes in the far reaches of the Underland. Hazard, my cousin, speaks many languages foreign to me. I expect our interactions to be peaceful. In the event that they are not, the overlander is more than capable of keeping me safe.”

Gregor couldn’t stop the laugh that escaped his lips.

“Something funny, warrior?” asked Ripred, with a tone that suggested nothing was funny now, nor had it ever been, nor would anything be even slightly humorous in the future. 

“Sorry, sorry,” Gregor muttered.

“I am a man who loves a good joke, share with us what is on your mind, Overlander,” Lord Antonio said, holding his winealoft like a toast. 

Gregor cleared his throat. “I mean, I’ve never had to protect her much before, usually she--”

“Yes!” Luxa said loudly with a fake smile. “Because we were young and I was more often than not far from danger. But my father ruled himself and did not hide behind ambassadors; I intend to do the same.” 

Gregor didn’t know why Luxa and Ripred were keeping Luxa’s fighting prowess from Antonio. She usually liked to brag about her skill, or preferably beat you black and blue to prove it. 

“Thank you for your hospitality, Lord Antonio. It has been an absolute pleasure to dine with you. I wish we could keep this feast going but we have an early start tomorrow and I know we would all benefit from some sleep.” 

Servants emerged with a clap of Antonio’s meaty hands to empty plates and show the guests to their rooms. Through the chaos, Gregor saw Antonio lead Hazard off alone, down a hallway. Gregor craned his neck, to make sure that someone was aware, but all the people he depended on to be in charge during these situations, Luxa, Ripred, Mareth, were all occupied. 

Gregor took off after Antonio and Hazard down the hallway. He stopped when he heard voices. 

“I didn’t get to speak with your much, young man, and then at the end of dinner I hear what a fascinating person you are.”

“Umm, thank you?” Hazard sounded confused but not alarmed. Gregor wondered if he should just go back and leave the situation alone. Luxa was already angry at him for who knows what reason. 

“You are the queen’s cousin?” 

“Yes.” 

“Are you her only cousin?” 

“No. There is also Howard, and Nerissa, and a bunch more at the Fount. ” 

There was silence from Lord Antonio. 

“But you must be Luxa’s favorite relative. You are so charming and clearly very intelligent.” 

“Thank you. But I am not sure…” Hazard drifted off and Gregor decided to make his entrance. 

Gregor called out to the pair. “Thank god! Oh man, I thought I was gonna get lost in these hallways. Jeez, it’s confusing here. Lord Antonio, maybe you can clear this up, one of your servants told me my quarters were the second door on the left, but then I walked into a ladies’ bathroom and I just got so turned around… ”

“Of course,” said Antonio greasily. 

The three turned back. Only once Hazard was safely with Luxa and the doors were shut did Gregor relax. He made his way back to his own room and settled on the bed. 

Not too much time passed before there was a knock on the door. Gregor was pleased to see Mareth in the doorway holding two bottles of something that looked like beer.

“Would you like to go for a walk??” 

“Totally.” 

Gregor and Mareth wandered through Reach, sipping from something Mareth called firewine. Gregor learned that Mareth was married and expecting a baby. 

“Congrats, dude! Are you nervous?” 

“It is a big responsibility.” 

The pair settled down on a curb. The city was nice, if small. They had already reached the far edge. The back of the city was nothing like the front. There was no wall protecting the rear. Instead the buildings tapered off until they were standing in front of a sheer cliff. Gregor couldn’t even comprehend how large the cliff was because it extended past the light of the city. The bottom was total darkness. 

With few natural light sources in the underworld, Gregor was used to seeing blank space like this. But knowing what was beyond, knowing that on the other side of the wall an endless, lightless desert stretched from here to hell, the black air looked darker. Impenetrable. 

“Yeah, I guess. Even just having sisters -- I’m always stressed about them. Like, when Antonio pulled Hazard away after dinner, I felt weirdly protective, you know?” 

Mareth set down his bottle. “Antonio was alone with Hazard?” 

“Yeah. I thought it was a little creepy, but Antonio was just asking about Hazard’s family. Luxa’s family, I guess. Is something wrong?”

Mareth’s expression was intense. Gregor tried to shake off the dizzy feeling he was getting from the firewine but he couldn’t understand why Mareth looked so alarmed. 

“Do you remember exactly what Antonio asked?”

Gregor shrugged. “He was just trying to butter up someone close to Luxa -- saying like Hazard is her favorite--” 

Mareth jolted to his feet. “Come.” He grabbed his sword so Gregor did the same. 

“What’s the matter?” The pair hurried down a torch-lit corridor.

“It may be nothing,” Mareth muttered. “Or Luxa may be in danger.” 

Gregor sped up. 

“I think Antonio may have been trying to determine who Luxa’s heir is.” 

They stole closer to the castle. As they had walked, Gregor had noticed that the city was nearly empty. He had chalked it up the small population and late hour. Maybe Reach even had a curfew -- Lord Antonio seemed like a strict ruler. Now the empty streets took on a sinister feel. The closed doors now seemed locked. The people no longer seemed at home in their beds, but hiding. The silence was constricting. Gregor began to jog.

“Wait, Luxa doesn’t have an heir. She’s not even married, she doesn’t have…” 

“No, Luxa has no children yet. And because of this she will have had to name someone else, a close relative, as her heir in case anything happened to her.” 

Dread startled bubbling up in Gregor’s stomach. “Let me guess, she decided on Hazard.” 

“No. But that’s clearly what Antonio thinks.” 

Gregor wanted to ask who Luxa had chosen, but his curiosity was forced to wait. Through the still and silent air, a faint noise reached them. It was unmistakably the sound of steel on steel. Mareth and Gregor broke into a run as they turned the corner that would lead them to the castle gates. 

Before them rose a scene of calamity. Two bats hung in the air, circling but never getting in range of the archers on the ground. One had a rider, but whoever had managed to escape was too far away and moving too quickly. Gregor searched their features, hoping that maybe he saw Luxa’s silver hair. 

On the ground, several of Reach’s guards had lashed chains over Chewy and the remaining flier. The bat was big and unfamiliar looking, meaning it was most likely Mareth’s bond. Gregor was sure as Mareth put on another burst and speed and passed Gregor. The guards were struggling with the large animals, but they had the numbers. As Gregor watched, one man pulled out a long, glittering dagger. He was waiting for the moment when he could get close enough. 

“No!” Gregor took off towards Chewy, drawing his sword from his belt as he ran. The sword felt odd in his hand, like when you pick up a pencil again after a long summer of not using one. 

But, as he raised it and brought it down on the shoulder of a soldier trying to restrain Chewy, he felt the familiarity of the weapon. His rager side kicked in and his adrenaline rushed. His vision split, allowing him to focus on many things at once. That was how he kicked an attacker away from Chewy and saw Mareth knocked to the ground in the same second. Gregor leapt over an attacking blade and stood over Mareth as the soldier got up slowly, holding his temple. A piercing screech rent the air. Gregor swiveled to see that one of the Reach soldiers had found his mark. A sword was buried to the hilt in the neck of Mareth’s flier. In the bat’s death throes, he threw his killer six feet into a brick wall but it was not enough to save him. Gregor watched as the life leeched out of the big flier. 

Mareth got to his feet with renewed energy. Together their freed Chewy. With the fox unfettered, the castle guards were no match for them. Chewy tore out the throat of the closest enemy, then the rest threw down their swords and ran. 

“Gregor!” Chewy’s whole body trembled from fear. 

“Chewy! Where is everyone else? Where is Luxa?”

The fox shook her head in confusion and terror. She was utterly terrified. 

“Okay Chewy,” said Gregor, stroking behind her ear. “You did a great job, girl, can you tell me about the others?” 

“H-h-hazard!” she yelped. 

“Hazard?” 

“He escaped.” She pointed her snout at the one human in the air. 

“Okay, what about Luxa? Ripred?” 

“Ripred.” Chewy shuddered. 

“What about him?” Gregor demanded. He tried not to let his frustration in his voice. He tried to remember that Chewy was really only a little kid. 

“He ran.” 

Gregor couldn’t comprehend what Chewy was saying. Ripred ran?

“And the queen?” asked Mareth. His chest was heaving, but his eyes were focused and determined. 

“She’s -- she’s in there.” Chewy gestured at the castle with its human-sized doors. 

“Okay. Chewy, stay close but stay safe. I’ll call when I need you.” 

“I need to go with the Overlander,” said Chewy bravely. 

Gregor patted Chewy’s side. “Thanks, but you can’t. Stay out here. Guard our exit. We’ll need you soon.” 

Gregor surveyed Mareth. His bat was dead on the ground, feet away. When Gregor had lost Ares, he had been inconsolible. He didn’t know if Mareth had the strength to keep going. 

“I’m fine, Overlander,” he said gruffly, and led the way into the castle. 

Gregor had no choice but to follow. They encountered a pair out guards inside the gates, but dispatched them easily. The military training in Reach was no match to the warlike Regalian routine. 

“Where is the queen?” Marth growled when the final soldier surrendered. 

On his knees, trembling, the man whimpered. Gregor couldn’t take standing around while their friends were in danger. He whipped the guard with the flat of his blade, knocking him to the side. A thin line of blood appeared on his cheek. 

“The queen,” Gregor demanded. 

The guard gestured into the castle but said nothing. Gregor raised his sword again. 

“No!” the man gasped. “Her chambers. They went to her chambers!” 

Mareth and Gregor took off, flying through the twisting passages. Gregor had to hope that Mareth knew the right way, because he was hopelessly turned around. Finally, Gregor heard it, the sounds of a fight in earnest. He heard a battle cry that could have only come from Luxa. Gregor didn’t wait for Mareth, instead he took off at a sprint and emerged in a set of lavishly decorated apartments. The place was wrecked. Tapestries were on the floor, feathers from pillows and bedding covered every surface. Furniture was cracked and broken. Luxa stood atop a desk with a ring of castle guards surrounding her. Lysander lay underneath the table, either unconscious or dead. 

The guards were clearly disoriented. Gregor understood now why Luxa had hid her skill when talking with Antonio. Untrained men and boys had come to ambush a queen and a librarian in the nighttime. They had gotten more than they bargained for. Several guards were on the floor. The remaining few had gathered in a loose circle around Luxa. They were at a disadvantaged position. Luxa was above them and she was spinning slowly, swiping at anyone who came close enough. She was safe for the moment, but it was a tenuous position. The desk rocked slightly under her movements and the guards were beginning to coordinate their efforts. 

Gregor didn’t pause to think. He charged into the room, raised his sword, and slashed at the back of the nearest soldier. Luxa looked at Gregor and their eyes met for a millisecond. Relief, anger, exhaustion poured out from Luxa’s grime-streaked face. 

They didn’t have time to exchange any words. Gregor was engaged with a guard on his right and Luxa struck out at guards who were attempting to join forces, splitting them apart. 

For a few minutes, all Gregor could concentrate on was his fight. They were outnumbered three to one and Gregor had to stay alert. It has been years since he had fought with a sword. Even though the weapon felt natural in his hand, Gregor could tell that his skills had suffered over the years. He was hit with the hilt of a sword on his hip and didn’t quite spin out of the reach of a blade that clipped his shoulder. The pain was intense but only further woke up his rager instincts. He roared and cleaved the man’s helm in two. The smell of blood filled his nostrils and he laughed. The joy of living when others didn’t. 

Mareth joined the fight, and slowly, Gregor and his friends began to take the upper hand. When there was only one guard standing, he threw down his sword and knelt down. 

“I surrender! Please!” said the guard. The rager in Gregor still thrummed; he noticed the vulnerable back of the guard’s neck as he knelt before them. He spun away from the guard before he executed a man for surrendering. 

The room was filled with the smell of blood, the sound of gasping breaths, and the after battle still that grated on one’s nerves. Adrenaline was still coursing through Gregor’s body, looking for something to fight, but there was nothing. Their opponents were dead or gone, and they needed to start moving. 

Instinctually, Gregor found Luxa. She was dismounting from the desk shakily, her left leg clearly wounded. She locked eyes with Gregor as if she felt his gaze. She didn’t see the dead soldier rise. She didn’t see the beginning of the arc that would cut her in two. 

“No!” Gregor shouted as he leapt across the room. But he was too far. The sword was already in motion. And then, suddenly, miraculously, it was stopped, swatted to the side. 

Lysander had lunged at the sword with his bare arm. The blade connected with his flesh, just below the wrist, and his whole hand went spinning off. 

Luxa brought the hilt of her sword down on the man’s head and her foot into his chest, sending him backward where he slammed into the wall. Lysander had fallen unconscious again and there was blood gushing from his arm. Luxa ripped the bedsheet off the bed and tried to staunch the flow. She patted Lysander’s face with obvious tenderness, trying to wake him up. 

Gregor stood off to the side, feeling the battle rush slide from his limbs. 

“We have to move,” said Mareth, beckoning to them. 

Luxa looked at him helplessly. Lysander was not going to be walking himself out of here. Gregor sheathed his sword and slung Lysander over his shoulder. He grunted under the weight. Lysander was bigger than him, but Gregor was strong. He could do this. 

Again, he met Luxa’s eyes for only a moment. Torrents of emotions, positive and negative, floated between them. Then she grabbed her sword and led them out of the castle. 

Gregor was suspicious at how easy their escape was. They didn’t encounter another guard as they left. They passed a frightened servant who flattened herself against the wall making room for them. When they exited the castle, Chewy was still pacing outside, but again there was no one. 

The bats landed. Luxa quickly hugged Hazard, who had no visible wounds on him. Then they set about work on tying Lysander to Aurora’s back. 

“We have to fly back to Regalia immediately,” she was saying. “Aurora, you take only Lysander and we’ll follow. Where’s Ripred?” 

Silence answered her. 

“He is gone,” Ganymede the bat answered. 

Luxa didn’t seem to understand. Or perhaps she understood too quickly. The emotion in her face went out like a switch had been flipped. 

“Back to Regalia,” she ordered. 

As they mounted up, they heard a rattle that vibrated off the walls resonated in Gregor’s morals. Out across the city, over the wall they had entered through, a chain net was being drawn upwards. They were trapped. 

“No,” whispered Luxa. 

Gregor rarely saw her like this. Hopeless. He glanced at the other side of Reach. It was just black. There was no chain -- nothing to bar their way. 

“Let’s go that way!” he said. 

“That’s the Vastlands,” Luxa shouted. “There’s nothing over there!” 

“It’s our only way out!” 

Luxa glared at the net blocking their way back to Regalia, her shoulders tense near her shoulders. Then they dropped and she was shouting commands. Hazard and Ganymede took off, with Mareth. Luxa settled behind Lysander on Aurora’s back and gently cradled his head in her lap. 

Gregor ran to Chewy and jumped her back. They raced through the city. Again, they saw no one. If they did see a face, it was a scared citizen at a window. There were no soldiers, no guards. Apparently, no one had thought they would make their escape through the Vastlands. When they reached the outskirts, Gregor remembered why. 

Gregor swallowed hard as he looked over the edge. He breathed hard and forced his head away from the sight, back towards the city. He could hear the sounds of people approaching, people in armor. The bats had already flown off into the darkness. Now it was just him and Chewy. 

“I can do this, Overlander!” said Chewy. “You just gotta hold on tight.” 

“No, Chewy!” 

But it was too late, Chewy dove headfirst over the edge. Gregor’s heart stopped. He had just entrusted his safety to a two year old and now he was about to die. 

Then Chewy’s paw hit an invisible foothold and then another. Instead of falling down a cliff, they were  _ running  _ down it. The light from the city faded behind them and they were in darkness. Gregor’s echolocation showed nothing, just the cliff and empty space. After an impossible amount of time, or maybe it was just a few seconds, the ground began to level out. Chewy ran for several more minutes, before slowing down. She yelped one long bark. Gregor heard the sound of bat’s wings and his friends were touching down around him. 

They set up a small camp, illuminated with torches. Mareth redid Luxa’s bandages on Lysander’s arm. He applied a tourniquet above Lysander’s elbow. 

“He needs a hospital,” Mareth declared. 

Gregor agreed but couldn’t understand why everyone looked so grim. 

“Let me guess, it’s not as simple as just going back.” 

“No,” said Mareth. “The Vastlands are essentially a large bowl in the dirt with very few entrances. One of the is Reach. The other two are miles away. It would take us days to reach them and even longer to get back to Regalia. He doesn’t have that kind of time.” 

Gregor trusted Mareth. The dude had seen his fair share of battle wounds.

The party looked bleak. Hazard had draped an arm around Luxa, whose face was pale. The bats twitched nervously. And Lysander continued to bleed in the dirt. 

“We’ll figure something out,” Gregor said. Heads swiveled to look at him. “But hanging out here isn’t going to fix him. We need to put as much distance between us and that city as possible. And we need a direction to go.” 

Luxa nodded and began to clear a space in the dirt, kicking rocks and pebbles out of the way. She used an unlit torch to draw a big circle in front of them. Then, painstakingly, she, Hazard, Mareth, and the bats tried to draw a map of the Vastlands from memory, with Reach as their starting point. 

“This was the whole reason we needed a librarian on this quest!” Luxa said at one point. Their map was hazy at best. Nothing was to scale, and for the most part, the Underlanders were guessing where locations were. 

“Hey guys,” said Gregor. “Looks like the Reachers aren’t planning on letting us chill out here.” 

At the top of the cliff leading to Reach, the lights were growing brighter as more and more lanterns and torches crowded around. And now for the first time, one of the pinpricks of light was descending. 

“We’ll have to get by with this,” Luxa said to their sorry map. “The closest human civilization is the Fount, but that would involve traveling halfway through the Vastlands and up the river.”

“He won’t make it that far,” said Mareth. “We have to stop the bleeding and we don’t have the right supplies.” 

“Are those tornados?” Gregor asked, looking at their map. 

“Spinners,” said Aurora. 

“Then that’s it. We go there. With their silk bandages, Lysander will have a way better chance of traveling to the Fount.” 

An uneasy silence greeted Gregor’s words. 

“We’ve never met this colony before,” said Luxa. 

Gregor understood their hesitation. After his last visit with the giant spiders, when he had been immediately imprisoned in a cocoon of spider web, he wasn’t eager to treat with them either. But based on their shitty map, it seemed like the best option. 

“We can do it. This is what you wanted, Luxa. A chance to unite all of the Underworld under a banner of peace.” 

She looked up despairingly. 

“I don’t know how much travel Lysander can take. It’s a long way to the spiders, and it’s in the opposite direction as the Fount.” 

The lights from Reach were getting closer. For a city with a subpar military, they weren’t giving up easily. They were out of time to debate. Gregory pulled Chewy close and mounted up. 

“We don’t have a choice,” he said, hoping that his voice sounded confident and not scared out of his mind. 

Everyone turned to Luxa, who would have the final say. She narrowed her eyes at Gregor, but nodded. “Let us go, quickly.” 

Hazard and Ganymede were in the air in a flash. 

Luxa asked Mareth, who had the most field medical experience to stay with Lysander and Aurora. That left the queen without a ride. 

She glared at Gregor. 

“You gonna walk?” he asked. 

Luxa folded her arms over her chest. 

“Oh come on.” Gregor reached a hand for her which she ignored as she climbed on Chewy’s back behind him. However, as Chewy jolted into a run, Luxa was forced to cinch her arms around Gregor’s torso. Despite being ambushed in the middle of the night, losing one of their fliers, being abandoned by Ripred, and now heading towards and unknown colony of possibly murderous spiders, Gregor grinned. He told his face to stop that immediately. 


End file.
